


A Romp in the Hay

by morecivilizedage



Series: I'm in Love with a Fairy Tale [1]
Category: Die Gänsemagd | The Goose Girl, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, First Time, M/M, Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7919596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morecivilizedage/pseuds/morecivilizedage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rex figures a hay-bale bed after most of a day's hard work doesn't make for too bad of a first time.  He most certainly isn't complaining as Ben pushes him down. Based roughly on the fairy tale <i>The Goose Girl</i></p><p>Fluffy, self-indulgent porn with barely even the very utter barebones of a plot—and that's judging by fairy-tale standards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Romp in the Hay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [norcumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/gifts).



“Should I be concerned ‘bout my virtue, my lord?” Rex asks, grinning, as the auburn-haired man presses him down more firmly into his sheet-over-a-hay-bale mattress.  He arches up and slides one of his legs between Ben’s own, pressing his thigh up firmly against Ben’s burgeoning erection.  His hands move up to slide underneath Ben’s rucked-up shirt, tweaking at sensitive nipples and drawing blunted nails along the musculature of Ben’s sides, causing the man to shiver.

“I was under the impression you were _not_ a stuffy maiden aunt,” Ben growls, and grasps one of Rex’s wrists to pin it up above his head before leaning down to plunder his lips in what is shaping up to be a _very_ enjoyable kiss.  Rex hums as he breaks away, slowly drawing back.  He tilts his head up again to nip at Ben’s lips playfully, writhing beneath Ben to shift again until he can grind their erections together through the thin fabric of their breeches.  His other hand goes up to join the first, and Ben’s grip expands to capture both wrists with another growl and a groan that is pure arousal as Rex arches as if in a semblance of helplessness against Ben’s grip.  As though the rippling muscles of his well-toned frame and the mischievous sparkle in his eye did not belie the fantasy that he could not break from Ben’s loose hold in moments.

“Ah, but–” Rex’s voice cuts off with a moan as Ben grinds down _hard_ , bringing their erections together, even as the man tries to shimmy out of his breeches. “–shouldn't, _oh_ , all young maidens be worried for their marriage prospe– _Shit!_ _Ah_ gods, Ben…” During Rex’s playful speech, Ben finally frees himself from his breeches and shifts between Rex’s legs, forcing them apart and up with his bent thighs, before curling down to unlace the ties of Rex’s breeches with his _teeth_ and then suck the head of Rex’s very interested and very hard cock into his mouth.  Ben just grins as Rex starts to curse, and after very _firmly_ pressing Rex’s wrists down in an unspoken request to keep them there, Ben releases them and brings both hands down to grasp at Rex’s hips in an effort to start going down on him _properly_.

With one last twirl of his tongue around the tip of Rex’s precum-leaking cock, Ben _swallows_ him down halfway and inhales, letting his throat constrict tightly around the head of Rex’s cock.  Rex gasps, and the firm grip of Ben’s hands keeps him from fully thrusting up into the warm heat of Ben’s throat.  Rex chokes on his moans as Ben starts to hum, but keeps his hips still as he can, his hands above his head gripping at the worn sheet. Once certain Rex won’t thrust up and choke him unexpectedly, Ben releases his hips and brings one hand up to grasp around the base of Rex’s cock while his hand reaches towards a small jar of oil.  With fingers dripping, Ben brings the hand back and slips it into Rex’s breeches, first toying at his ballsac with slick fingers, teasing as his cries grow more and more breathless and desperate, before sliding down lower along his perineum to tease at the pink ring of muscle.  Ben draws back off of Rex’s cock, and Rex keens at the loss, panting hard before curling up, contracting his core muscles to look down at Ben with a glare.

“If I’m gonna be deflowered on a glorified pile of hay–” he pants, trying to maintain a façade of ire even as Ben’s fingers continue to tease around the rim of his hole, “–I think you at least owe me to not ruin my best pair of breeches.”  Ben laughs, but breaks away from teasing Rex to help free his legs from his breeches, tossing the unwanted item somewhere near the extant clothing puddle.  Ben grasps for the jar of oil again, and tugs Rex’s up until his ass is resting easily on his upper thighs.  Lifting one of Rex’s tanned legs high, Ben scrubs his short beard against the tender skin while hiking it up to rest over his shoulder.  With the other hand, he upends the jar of oil over Rex’s exposed perineum, before discarding the near-empty jar, scooping up the slick oil to tease and slide overly-slick fingers into Rex’s now well-oiled and dripping hole.  The first two fingers slide in easily, Rex’s arousal and trust helping him relax.  The intrusion is a somewhat strange feeling but not unpleasant, and just when Rex is about to open his mouth to ask what is keeping Ben, the man’s fingers brush against a bundle of nerves that make his vision white out and see stars.

Rex’s surprised moan seems to be the signal Ben was waiting for as Ben then begins to scissor the two fingers around before adding a third, relentlessly grazing against that spot inside that has Rex biting back groans.  Just as Rex is on the cusp, Ben grips around the base of his cock with the free hand, and draws out the fingers in his ass, gathering up the excess dripping oil.  Ben spreads the oil, and his own precum, over his cock, and carefully lines up with Rex’s stretched, slick hole.

“Ready, fair maiden?” Ben asks, grinning like a fool, and Rex is caught between a scoff and a groan.

“Hurry up, you lordling bra– _oh,_ “ Rex cuts off with a groan.  Ben’s cock is a stretch much more than fingers, a slight burn just on the edge of pleasure-pain as Ben eases the head of his cock in.  Rex moans at the sensation of it, and Ben begins to slowly tug at his cock, keeping Rex relaxed and pleasured as Ben slowly thrusts in deeper.  Once Ben is fully seated, he waits a moment, before beginning to tentatively thrust in and out; it takes Rex a moment to realize that Ben is searching for that pleasure spot inside him.  Ben finds it, and Rex sharply inhales.  The next moment, Ben is thrusting against it with deep, hard thrusts, hammering against the bundle of nerves inside Rex that make him bite his lips to keep from screaming.  He doesn’t last much longer than that, especially as Ben starts to tug at his erect cock with more strength, brushing the thumb over Rex’s slit and teasing at a second bundle of nerves just beneath the lip of the underside of his cock.  As Ben lightly grinds the pad of his thumb against Rex’s slit in tandem with a particularly strong thrust, Rex comes with a shout, spurting between them.  Ben carefully withdraws as the aftershocks of Rex’s orgasm clench down around his cock, and once the tip of his cock is free of Rex’s hole, it takes only a tug more for him to come as well, spurting between the two of them onto Rex’s bared stomach.

Rex collapses back into the hay bale mattress, finally bringing his arms down from their position over his head to cup the side of Ben’s face and draw him down into a kiss.  Once they break apart, Ben draws his dirtied shirt over his head and uses it to wipe them both clean—an action that makes Rex retroactively _very_ grateful he does not wear his shirts out to do field work—before tossing the shirt to the side and laying down beside Rex to spoon up against him.  Ben nuzzles at the junction between Rex’s shoulder and neck as Rex strokes a hand through Ben’s pretty auburn hair.

“You have now been quite thoroughly deflowered by a dashing rogue,” Ben mumbles against Rex’s skin, and Rex chuckles quietly as Ben seems to drop off into a doze.  Rex continues to card his fingers through Ben’s hair, easing him into sleep before he sighs, softly.

“I suppose things didn’t turn out so bad,” Rex mused quietly to himself. After he’d been stripped of all markings of his rank down to the very clothes off his back and _then_ cursed to not tell a soul of his royal status, Rex had not been sure how he’d fare.  Despite the inauspicious beginnings, however, Rex is finding fieldwork hard but satisfying, and—frankly—he can’t find it in himself to mourn a betrothed prince he’d never met when he has a perfectly wonderful lover, even if Ben is a minor lordling brat.

“Mph?” Ben asks, more of a sleepy response to noise than any sort of solid acknowledgement of words spoken.

“Beats marrying a stuffy prince,” Rex mumbles with finality.  He is about to shut his eyes to nap himself when Ben stiffens in his arms and bolts upright, turning to stare at Rex with wide eyes.

“ _You’re_ Brexton Fett?” Ben nearly shouts.  Rex’s heart almost stops with fear, and before he can scramble together some sort of excuse or explanation, Ben ducks down and kisses him more lovingly and passionately than even a man who had just fucked him near-senseless had any right to be.

“Um…” Rex begins, when he can finally pretend to breathe again.  “Care to explain that?  Not that I’m, ah, objectin’.”  Ben smiles at him, equally breathless, and there’s a slight flush to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, even as his eyes sparkle.

“I, ah, may have been... not entirely straightforward, when I said I owned the town.”  Rex raises an eyebrow, somewhat confused as to where this was meant to be going.

“So, you _don’t_ own the Anchorhead fief?” Rex asks, propping himself partially up on his elbows.

“Well, yes and no.”  Ben paused and cleared his throat sheepishly.  “You see, I am Prince-Regent Obi-Wan Kenobi.”


End file.
